A Lazy Summer Storytime
|date = 34-35 years after Great Reformation, |timeline = Canto Universe}} A Lazy Summer Storytime is a stand-alone short story set in the Canto Universe. It is a supplemental work that builds upon the history of a major character in the Universe. Story Anyone can tell you that summertime out in the open ocean is humid. What they can't tell you is how every screw, bolt, and gear on your entire person is slick with the salty spray that literally rains down upon you every time you dared to step outside. The thought of rusting on the spot would have caused me to shudder if it weren't as hot as a Ta-Metru furnace today. The overwhelming heat has a pervasive, lethargic feel to it, robbing any intention of bodily movement. With a barely-concealed grimace, I let the air well up in my lungs before exhaling it all as a discontented sigh out from beneath my mask. "Bercilak, if you keep sighing and moping about, that just makes you feel even hotter. And grumpier. Didn't you come from the Southern Islands? I thought you were used to this weather." Lazily letting my head roll towards the source of the voice, I reply, with equal laziness, "Says the Toa of Fire. I bet you don't even feel the heat, Namoka. And for the record, I was out in the sweltering tropical weather actually doing something worthwhile back when I was a Matoran." "Ah, so you're just annoyed that we've nothing to do. I understand, it's frustrating still being relatively on the fringe of society despite having been around since the city's inception. But, see here, Bercilak, we had a pretty big client just last month, yeah? Adytum Odd Jobs is doing just fine." Every time I, or anyone else for that matter, complains about anything, Namoka is always there to comfort said complainant with that level head of hers. She's infallibly ready with a sensible, thoughtful reply. I hate it. I hate that she's a model Toa. I also hate the fact that a rookie is babying an old fart of a veteran like myself. And I still hate this hot weather. Grunting, I cross my arms and plant them on the aged, wooden handrail and stare out across the ever-shifting great blue speckled with flecks of sunlight daintily resting on the tip of each wave, leaping away just before the wave descended. I'll admit, this was relaxing in its own way and I hope to spend the rest of lookout duty in solitude with only the ocean waves crashing hundreds of feet below us and the muted, weekend chatter of the Matoran and Agori far below to break the silence. Sitting in the tallest tower in all of Adytum and looking at the Scarabax Beetle-sized Adytians mill about to make sure they don't do anything stupid. That's lookout duty for you. "Say," Namoka said, breaking the silence, "Why don't you just do something to take your mind off things?" With the short-lived peace having unceremoniously vanished, my reply was laced with the usual frown. "There is little to do up here, if you haven't noticed. We're up in a tiny lookout tower with barely enough headroom and not more than 10 paces between us." This tower was clearly designed for the Matoran and Agori type of fellow. I'm just glad the floor has been able to hold our weight without too much creaking over the years. "Take a walk then. Clear your head," the pink-armoured Glatorian-Toa replied, not batting an eye at my callous outburst. "I'll keep watch while you're gone, alright?" Begrudgingly, I take her up on that offer. I would have replied but I don't think I could take any more of her coddling so, without further ado, I pick up what was left of my tattered shreds of dignity and head off and leave behind one Glatorian whose knowing smile was as radiant as the evening light reflecting off her outrageously pink armour. I hate that smile of hers, too. ---- Shielding my eyes from the slowly sinking sun, I latch the aged, wooden door of the lookout tower shut with a snaking vine summoned forth from a crack between some nearby flagstones. We lost the key ages ago so we've all developed our ways of securing the door and to break the lock of another element. To my surprise, a Ga-Matoran and two Agori of Water had bunched up a good twenty paces from me, whispering among themselves, just out of my earshot. Normally I'd just roll my eyes and leave it at that but those three were rather urgently pointing at me and trying to steal not-so-furtive glances at me. Clearly, they being more than a bit nosy. Recalling an old trick I learned during the Toa-Dark Hunter War, I activate my Kanohi Aipari, the Mask of Density, to compress the nearby air so that a tunnel of wind is formed between the gossipers and I. Sound transmits far better in dense matter so this is essentially a very discreet way to eavesdrop. "...see that? It's him, make no mistake about it. He's one of those guys I've been telling you about, a Toa! We Matoran have always looked up to them. See, I wasn't lying!" "I've only heard stories about these ‘Toa' people. They're like Glatorian but can do other stuff, right?" "No, no, I heard they're like immortal, crazy powerful people! Wasn't there one guy who blew up a bunch of those evil minions back during the war?" I've always found it strange how Toa are viewed nowadays. While most Matoran still remember us as at least war veterans or something close to that, Agori treat us like some sort of mythical beings. Better than, at least, the outliers who hate our guts. Nevertheless, the constant gossiping really grated on my nerves. Best to just ignore the lot, I suppose, and hope they move along. "Hey! Wait up!" The Ga-Matoran wedged herself between myself and the door. "You're Bercilak, aren't you? One of the Toa Vayu who created the city foundations and protected it ever since!" "Nope, doesn't ring any bells. He sounds like a real nutjob, if you ask me. I'd steer clear of him if I were you, he probably eats Matoran who get on his bad side. Now, please, out of the way." I point at a clump of ivy that had snaked its way up the tower and it instantly obeyed my will, morphing into a giant leaf that swept Ms. Eager Beaver aside. The Agori rush over to her side, helping the groaning Matoran to her feet. One Tribesman of Water started daggers at me as if that was something that had *never* happened to a Toa after the Reformation before. The other Agori, however, had a hint of disappointment on his otherwise concerned face as knelt down and that got me. That got me a whole lot more than it should have. I shake my head and continue unlocking the tower door. First Namoka with her worthless care and concern for me, then an Agori who I don't even know the name of shows a little displeasure at me and I'm practically melting in their hands. Since when has my skin has gotten so thin? I've been at this whole Toa business for so long, I've honestly forgotten when I started. I've probably gotten grumpier as I got older, I'll admit. You know, a couple of people died, the world got taken over once or twice, that sort of thing. I think I'm entitled to a bit of grumpiness once in a while. Then there was that little ordeal on Visorak while I was a Hagah. Bad things of the creepy crawly variety were on Visorak. What happened on Visorak, stayed on Visorak. It hits me and my fingers froze, just about to cut apart the vine I summoned just moments earlier. Perhaps my skin has simply gotten too thick. Though my back is still turned to her, the Ga-Matoran speaks up. "I'm extremely sorry, sir, I shouldn't have bothered you while you're so busy. Please, forgive my curiosity." This time, I did not need to use my mask to hear what the Agori were whispering about, though I suspect they probably wanted me to hear what they were saying. "Are you serious? Why are you apologizing? You didn't do a thing!" "Let's just go, this ‘Toa' isn't worth our time." The trio began to depart but I, with great hesitation at first, call out after them. This was, without a doubt, the single-handedly most difficult thing I had to do since settling in Adytum. Normally, I would have loudly cleared my throat to gain their attention, but perhaps that was not the best way to go about doing things, given the situation. "Hold on a minute, you three, perhaps we got off on the wrong foot. Allow me to apologize." "Perhaps?" The louder of the two Agori spat, as he spun around. "Yeah, right-" To my surprise, the Ga-Matoran gripped his arm tightly, shaking her head. I was expecting her to do nothing and let me have an earful seeing as she wasn't able to stand up for herself earlier. Having someone else do the heavy lifting for her would be a stroke of luck. But, no, here she was, waving down someone who was clearly acting in her best interests. Looking me square in the eye, the Ga-Matoran finally speaks up. She seems to be entirely different from just moments prior, as if her embarrassment had wilted away. "Please don't worry about it, it's all water under the bridge. I'm simply glad you acknowledge your own actions and it's reassuring to see that the Toa are still fighting for us." Perhaps it wasn't that she had newfound courage, but rather, it had returned. She wasn't any different from before; this was who the Ga-Matoran really was, someone who believed in us Toa. Inexplicably, I blurt out, "Allow me to make it up to you. You said you were curious, correct? How about a story? Hopefully that will make out meeting worthwhile." Today has truly been strange. Just as I could not fathom why I uttered those words so suddenly, neither could I understand why I've been acting like a naive, wide-eyed, sentimental fool. I'm never going out on lookout duty with that Glatorian of Fire ever again. She must be having a fit of laughter as she enjoyed her Gukko's-eye view of the events that had transpired here. "A story, you say? I haven't had the time to read a book since leaving Ga-Metru, this is a, ah, rather unexpected, but welcome, offer. I'll take you up on that." This is exactly why I hate having to deal with others. One slip-up and they're all over you. Fine. I may as well get this over with. "Very well," I respond with a slight scowl, the usual gruffness that so often tinged my voice returning. An exasperated sigh on the tip of my tongue just about slips out, until the frown morphs into what some might describe as a mischievous smirk. Misery loves company, and there was no better way to share some of my miserable time that had been wasted with this Matoran of Water by telling her all about the lovely tourist destination where one certain Hagah had some fun in the sun. "Say, Ga-Matoran, do you know of an island called Visorak?" ---- 2,400 years ago "I don't like it, sir. Those Makuta are nothing but trouble. Surely you've heard the rumours that Kojol tried to steal the Avohkii from Arthaka recently. And now you're about to join their side as a Hagah! Doesn't that bother you?" Placing my buckler at my feet, I turn to rest my arms on the tiny wooden table and give the Toa of Earth a good stare. "Well, I don't like it when you call me sir. Just because I'm your mentor, Jotun, that doesn't make me someone you show special deference to. Leave that for the pompous, higher-up Xians on that big old island over there. As for this whole Artakha business, never heard of such a thing. And neither should you. Wipe any and all traces of such nonsense from your dirt-filled brain. We're lucky we never actually knew where the island is, or we'd be dead Toa walking. Like poor Terne. I liked Terne. He, er, was a good guy. Probably." "Right, sorry. Forgot we weren't supposed to mention Art- er, I mean, that island anymore," Jotun responded apologetically. "But my question remains. Doesn't getting drafted as a Hagah at now of all times seem very strange? With all due respect, I really think you should turn it down." Rubbing my chin, I nod. "Like Norik, yeah? If I recall, they've been sending him a messenger Necrofinch every few months or so. Ignores them each time. Each message gets more and more insistent though. I heard the latest one was basically a death threat." "You could do the same, Bercilak," the Earth Toa continues, his eyes widening slightly behind his mask, perhaps hopeful he got through to me. Hah! My student doesn't know how stubborn I am. "You're not looking at the bigger picture, Jotun. I've had a bone to pick with the Brotherhood ever since they got their hands on the Makoki Stone, the one item that just so happens to record the comings and going of a few of their number. They're obviously up to something and what better way to find out what than infiltrating their ranks?" Leaving Jotun to stare at me, flabbergasted, I get up and step away from the table, taking care to not bump my head on the wooden rafters. My current residence is an old hut that was once a fisherman's abode. I've been meaning to expand it but as the weeks on this island blended into months, I suppose I have gotten used to the lack of elbow room. Ever since Jotun was made a Toa, I've taken him under my wing and have been training him on this spit of land just off the coast of Xia. It was a good choice: there were Toa already there so he wouldn't have to deal with anything major, but Xia being Xia, there was still plenty of unrest. At least the weather in this region was nice, making for some spectacular summer sunsets such as this one, the twin fiercely orange suns racing each other to dip below the ocean's horizon. By now, Jotun had found his voice. "You… you can't be serious! If the Brotherhood finds out that a Toa has been spying on them, you'll bring down their wrath on us all!" A single bird's tweeting, something so out of place during the dying hours of the day, catches our attention. "Ah, that must be the Necrofinch," I announce, to Jotun's horror. Sure enough, the tiny little bird was perched on the windowsill, twittering incessantly. Gingerly grasping the tiny strip of parchment knotted around the bird's leg which duly stood still to allow me to do so, I pull it off. Its mission completed, the Rahi instantly took off, heading back to Destral, no doubt. I place the still tied-up message on the table and return to my seat, this time putting my feet up, much to the displeasure of the aged table which groaned and creaked, threatening to buckle. "You're not going to read it, Bercilak?" Jotun asked, still worried. "Would you, in this instance?" I return. The Toa of Earth begrudgingly shakes his head. Even he knows what the message contained without needing to read it. Heaving a deep sigh, thought not entirely sure why, I motion for Jotun to hold his hands out. He cocks his head to the side in confusion but does as I ask, regardless. "I leave my spear and buckler with you for safekeeping, Jotun." I look the Toa of Earth right in the eye, my gaze as hard as protosteel and hand him my weapons, my faithful companions of over five millenia. "I'm entrusting these to you, Jotun. Keep these with you at all times. Though our time together has been cut short, know that after these two productive years, it is time for the student to begin surpassing his master." Jotun was again speechless, so I kindly continued the conversation on his behalf. "I will come back. You have my word." Stumbling over his words, the Earth Toa managed a feeble farewell. "Al- Alright, sir. Bercilak, sir. I mean, just Bercilak." Had pure, inky darkness not suddenly enveloped me, I would have replied, equal parts reproaching and reassuring. Of course I had to be teleported, mid-conversation no less. There wasn’t even a Brotherhood servant to escort me to Destral. Leave it to the Makuta to be melodramatic. If only a penchant for flamboyance was their only fault. ---- Two months later Gray walls. Gray ceiling. Gray floor. Gray Chirox. No, hang on, he’s supposed to be black. Damn, vision must be failing again. The power sap was probably turned up to high today. I will my hand to move. I mentally ask it to do so, nicely. It twitches in response, but, other than that, it remains stubbornly insubordinate, the needle still firmly stuck between a gap in my forearm armor plates. My armor’s really heavy. Frustration welling up, I ask my mouth if it would please open so I could swear a couple of times. "Mmmh," it replies. Left with no choice, I describe a scene which Karzahni and Tren Krom have a good time together, laced with a healthy dollop of expletives. In my head, of course. Have I mentioned how heavy my armor feels? It is extremely heavy, like I’m holding up the sky with my little finger. But, then again, I barely feel anything right now so it's more akin to a thick blanket swathed around me. To be honest, it’s rather comfortable. The not-black Chirox’s eyes swept the dingy room, surveying our slumping forms. With a smirk, a smirk so self-satisfying even I could feel it in my sorry state, he motions for the two Oohnorak who flanked him to leave him and begin their patrol of the island. He soon followed, but not before lazily waving his hand to telekinetically swing the two foot-thick protosteel door shut. Even in my drugged-up haze, I could hear the unmistakable clunk as the heavy metal bolt slid into place, once again locking us in our tiny prison. To the Matoran, the Hagah were decorated heroes, veteran Toa pulled from the masses and adorned with armor polished to gleam even in the darkest night. They were infallible bodyguards for some of Mata Nui’s most powerful agents. Their duty was not an easy one, yet they always rose to the occasion. I think they would be horrified to see what Chirox uses his Hagah team for. What use is a group of six Toa when he commanded a legion of Visorak? He calls us "refuse". As "refuse", our only purpose is to provide energy to fuel his experiments and when one of our number is too exhausted to go on, they are… "replaced", as he puts it. When I first met my colleagues, I could see it; They had all given up. There was no hope in any of their eyes, from the grizzled-looking Fire Toa who was presumably the leader to a young Toa of Psionics, who looked like she used up a Toa Stone yesterday. The key word was "had". Chirox says he replaces us, but we all know better, as "replace" implies he relieves a spent Toa of their duties and just brings in someone new. Clenching my fist, I crush the needle tip with my forearm armor plates as my forearm tensed up. That’s the thing about geniuses: they are far too overconfident. I noticed very early on during my time on this island that the farther away Chirox was away from us, the weaker the effects of the power drain were. Not once had he left the island, until today, that is, but as more of my strength continued to flow back, I knew that accursed Makuta was heading farther and farther away. At last, this was our chance. Opening my mouth was an unsettling experience. Words physically failed me as my throat, which was dry as Voya Nui’s Desert of Sorrows, hacked up two months’ worth of dust. Gradually, my vision returned though my limbs could not shake off the lingering weakness as easily. The overwhelming gray faded to reveal some rather suspicious stains on the floor. Some were black, other were red, but all were concentrated around the legs of our restraining chairs. I think I’ll just try not to think too hard about them. Other than that, the room was barren and nondescript with just plenty of dust and a single lightstone as furnishment. It was, for all intents are purposes, a plain metal box with a vault-like door serving as the only exit. Our chairs were made of the same material and welded securely to the floor. The Toa of Fire and I locked eyes. The two of us nod, decisively. It was time. I don’t even know his name, truth be told. Chirox forbade any coversation and the few words we exchanged were spent discussing our course of action. What I do know is that we were unshakably united in our goals. It took a fair bit of effort to convince him, as well as the two others, that escape was possible. But now that the fire within the team has been reignited, quite literally for its leader, nothing was going to stop us from regaining freedom. The leader of the Hagah team was critical to the plan. We have a Toa of Fire, Psionics, Stone, and Plantlife. Out of all of us, it was clear he was the only one who could break out of this cell with our very limited elemental power reserves. He wasted no time melting his shackles. The second he was free, he promptly stands. Though he was shaky as a newborn Husi, he manages to steady himself and quickly gets to work freeing the rest of us. Time was of the essence; we could not afford to slow down for even a second. As one, we channeled our elemental energies into the door. The floor was melted away, the white-hot metal peeling back to reveal bedrock. The Toa of Stone sent his power through the ground, pulverizing the rock to create loamy soil, perfect for a multitude of snaking vines to wrench the door open. All throughout the operation, the debris settled to the floor soundlessly, thanks to a perfect control over telekinesis. The Visorak guards just one floor above us were none the wiser. "Follow me. Quickly!" the Fire Toa rasps, leaping through the ruined entryway before the dust had even settled. The four of us sprint down the hallway, past a multitude of other vault doors. Whether this means Chirox has other experiments cooped up in here or just prefers his base to be secure is beyond me. It was a disconcerting experience. Our feet flew beneath us yet we moved as silent as ghosts. The young Psionics Toa’s hands were splayed, palms down, glowing brightly. I’m not entirely sure how she is eliminating our would-be clanging footsteps, but never have I been more appreciated of the Psionics element in my entire life. She might look green behind the ears but she clearly is owed more credit that I’ve given her. She suddenly stops dead in her tracks, leaving me no choice but to awkwardly throw myself to one side. I take back my praise of her. The Toa of Stone notices the two of us had stopped. "Moroxi! Seed-spitter! Are you insane? Let’s go!" he hissed, eyes wide with a mix of fear and urgency. His fevered anxiety fell on deaf ears. A door in the hallway had been left ajar and a morbid sense of curiosity had taken a vice-like grip over me. All of me is screaming to run. Ignorance is bliss. Just run. A loud thump from inside the room sent a pang of dread surging through me, overriding all common sense. Bolting inside the room, I find Moroxi slumped on the floor, in complete and utter shock. "L-Look," she whispers. "That’s…" Her voice trails off as she fights off a blackout as the stress and fatigue caught up to her. A decapitated, dismembered torso, floating in a vat of eerily glowing, green fluid was the main attraction of this chamber and undoubtedly was the cause of Moroxi’s dismay. Golden armor. Pockmarked, adorned with horrific scars from unspeakable machinery, and dulled with age and abuse. Yet, it still caught what little light there was and gleamed in the darkness. I did not know this torso belong to. But the Toa of Fire and Stone, having caught up to Moroxi and I, both looked away, saying nothing. Ignorance is bliss. With the other three Hagah in no state to continue, I grimly explored the room. Other jars of the same green fluid took up nearly all the available space in this tiny, dingy room. All housed various shredded body parts, ranging from scraps of organic matter to armor plating that I could have sworn I’ve seen on various rahi before. A notebook was the single anomaly in the otherwise macabre homogeneity. It finally dawned on me: This was Chirox’s laboratory. And, in my shaking hands, was his journal. Motioning for the others to gather round, I read out the latest entry. "Continuing to experiment with Doom Viper glands." My voice, weak and frail, may very well have been a thunderous proclamation as my fellow Hagah listened in complete silence borne out of dread. "Trial number seven with Gukko beaks from yesterday will also continue through the night. Putting heartlight project on hold, short Brotherhood meeting today. Will sap extra power from them to compensate." "Short?" the Toa of Fire repeated. "How short is short? How much time do we have left?" The Stone Toa doesn’t even bother to shrug. He’s already in the hallway, running full-tilt. Thank Mata Nui Moroxi had sufficiently recovered to mask the ruckus he would have made in his panic. Door after door blurs past us as we run towards the flight of stairs at the end of the corridor. The Toa of Stone was so far ahead of us he had already leapt up to the surface. I couldn’t help but crack a smile. It was an infectious one, for both the Fire Toa and Moroxi returned it with grins of their own. Rushing up the stairs, I could taste the hot, arid air of Visorak. It wasn’t exactly a balmy summer breeze but it would do. A grunt from the Toa of Fire snaps me out of my momentary reverie. He stumbled on something, nearly falling down. With a few choice expletives, he violently kicks the offending hazard, only for it to flop in front of me. It was a brown arm, plated with beautiful, bronze armor that gleamed brilliantly, even in the dark stairwell. My vision took on a cloudy blue hue and my muscles threatened to clamp up as an abject terror wrenches my gut. We were too late. With no other alternative, I lunge up the final few stairs, only to be greeted with the Fire Toa desperately fending off a group of Visorak which was growing larger and larger by the second. The Toa of Stone lay dead and contorted, his emancipated body severely dehydrated to the point of it in danger of being blown away by the strong island winds. "Moroxi!" I yell as I summon forth thorny stems, "Be ready to fight!" With no further time to spare, I dive into the desperate melee. But, without our Toa Tools and in our weakened state, this was a lost cause. This was merely a delay of the inevitable. Combat was not an option if it meant defeat. Our only other choice was to escape. Escape, however, would not come easily, as Visorak continued to hem us in from all sides. To make matters worse, that hungry, weakening feeling was beginning to seep back into my legs. "You feel it too?" Moroxi gasped as she faltered, heaving for air. "Yeah." "He’s coming back." "Yeah." "We have to get –" "Yeah." Hurling an arm backward, vines whip around the Toa of Fire’s midsection, dragging him along unceremoniously. Sorry, fire-spitter. There’s just no time for talk. At least his trip, while bumpy, was short as Moroxi and I made quick work of the distance between the laboratory and the rocky shores of Visorak. Gathering the last of my elemental power, I call forth four trees, which I motion for Moroxi to cut down with her telekinesis. Taking the vines I had used to haul the Fire Toa, I lash the logs together to create a raft. "Leaving so soon, Toa?" Ah, dammit. "This is a dereliction of duty, Toa. Insubordination, and a gross lack of discipline." Chirox paused, the absence of his smooth, measured voice highlighting the growing scuttling of the Visorak horde which had yet to catch up. "But, most importantly, this is an annoyance. I’m sure you understand, Toa. I’m a very busy man and I simply don’t have time for this." "Busy cutting up us Toa, yeah?" the Toa of Fire spat, his hands wreathed in flames. "I’m sure killing us must have been a whole lot of work." "Now that you mention it, why, yes. Quite a lot of dense organic sinew in the abdominal area, you know. Must be from all that exercise you get from running around trying to be good little watchdogs for Mata Nui." Chirox’s indifferent attitude must have sparked something in the Fire Toa, who roared with grief and attacked the Makuta. The following exchange of blows took no more than a few seconds and down went the Toa, a smoking stump taking the place of his arm where a beam of shadow had shorn right through. Moroxi had the presence of mind to launch the raft offshore while I stared, dumbfounded, as the Makuta killed my fellow teammate. I had come here, ultimately, to investigate the inner workings of the Brotherhood, but never in my wildest dreams did I expect something quite so… blatant. "Seed-spitter! Come on!" Moroxi's voice was a clarion, jump-starting my senses as I boarded the raft. The two of us frantically paddled, Moroxi using her powers once again while I used my Mask of Density to make the raft nearly weightless. Chirox simply sighed, and pointed at us, a massive Shadow Hand, all too eager to obey his command, soared through the air towards us. Perhaps if we just paddle a bit more, then we’d put enough distance – A cry startled the two of us and we both involuntarily looked back. The Toa of Fire, grimacing with pain, had grasped Chirox’s leg and was threatening to melt through the protosteel with his flames. Even from so far out in the sea, I could make out his features, defiant to the end. His first Shadow Hand having vanished into thin air due to his broken concentration, Chirox, his composure finally having slipped away to reveal his true intentions in all its terrible fury, desperately threw out a second. This one wasn’t as accurate, but still managed to snatch Moroxi. I tried, of course. I swore I did. I swore I tried my absolutely damndest to tear her from the Shadow Hand’s unyielding grasp. Yet, to this day, I blame myself for her loss. The Toa of Fire sacrificed himself so the two of us would live but only I managed to escape that island. The Toa of Psionics was dragged, screaming all the way, back to Chirox who promptly muffled her cries by placing a Kraata over her mask. By the time I stopped paddling, I hadn’t even realized how far away from Visorak I was. My aching muscles, crying for a rest, were as good of an indication as any I suppose. Chirox’s Hagah team ceased to be that day. Two dead, one whose fate was unknown, possibly a fate far worse than death, and one insubordinate fool. To this day, I cannot drive Moroxi’s screams from my head, nor the sight of her being corrupted before my very eyes. ---- "The end," I announce, a winning smile on my mask. "Well, how about that, Matoran? You get a better sense of how Toa are like, now?" Looking slightly queasy, the Ga-Matoran hastily nodded. The Agori were just as dumbfounded, their idolized view of Toa shattered into smithereens. I swivel as I hear the lookout tower door being swung open. "Oh, you're still here, Bercilak? I thought you were going for a walk," Namoka said, perplexed. "Well, as you can see, that didn’t work out." "You okay, then, Bercilak?" I pause, giving it some thought. Am I ok? "Yeah. Yeah, I'd say I'm okay, Namoka. Let’s do this again next week." Characters *Bercilak *Namoka *Jotun *Unnamed Toa of Fire *Unnamed Toa of Stone *Moroxi *Group of unnamed Ga-Matoran and Agori of Water Trivia *This short story was written for the 2019 Summer Writing Contest. However, the general idea for the plot was developed long before. *"Terne", a throwaway name, was provided by . Category:User:ChineseLegolas Category:Canto Universe Category:Summer 2019 Writing Contest